Rules Were Made For Breaking
by CharlotteJeanF
Summary: Dolores Umbridge likes establishing rules, and Dean and Seamus like breaking them.


**A/N: [rises from the dead]**

 **Beware, Deamus lovers and fanfic readers!**

 **I have come back from my literal months of disappearance and omg I am one terrible author for putting you through so much suspense. I will do everything I can to not let that happen again!**

 **To warm up, here's a little prompt I did on wattpad ages ago. It's one of my favourite things I've ever written.**

 **All the love and kudos to you if you've stuck around,**

 **Charlotte xx**

… … …

 **Rules Were Made for Breaking**

"This has got to be a joke. _Please_ tell me she's kidding," Fred Weasley said, staring at the piece of pergament which had been put up just a few minutes ago in a somehow amazing mix of complete misery and utter disbelief. It was Dolores Umbrigde's newest addition to her ever growing collection of Educational Decrees, all of which were hung up in neat rows, hand-positioned by Argus Filch himself on the wall just outside the Great Hall, that was currently attracting a wildly chattering cluster of curious students.

"I'm going to send her a box of Puking Pastilles myself," George nodded, his brows furrowed. Both his voice and expression were extremely sour. "This isn't good. I've had like, three dates coming up this week."

"'Not good'? It's a freaking _disaster,"_ Fred replied, stressing the last word. "How the hell am I going to be with Angelina now? She'll give _me_ shit about it, but I ain't got nothing to do with that."

"Are you sure about that? I thought it were you two who got caught making out on the Quidditch field last Saturday, which would be quite a reasonable trigger, if you ask me," Hermione interrupted the twins' conversation, ever helpful. She was using the same voice she put on in class, as if explaining the solution of a problem to someone. It was a voice beyond reasoning, making any attempt to disagree a painfully embarrassing experience for her opponent. As usual, she was simply stating the facts that everyone knew were true - Fred hadn't exactly kept quiet about the detention he'd got for undressing someone beneath the bleachers -, but Fred resumed in giving her a death glare, anyway.

"Yes, but she's a _girl,_ and try explaining _that_ to an unreasonable at best person, who's also-"

"Excuse me, did you just call girls _unreasonable?"_ Hermione protested immediately, her eyes suddenly ablaze with a sort of dangerous intensity. George, who seemed to sense the turn the conversation was taking, began tugging on his twin's sleeve nervously - but there was no stopping Fred. Before everyone else had caught on to what was happening, Fred and Hermione were in a heated debate about boys and girls and the varying degrees of intellect and reasoning and how those were linked to gender.

Seamus Finnigan only rolled his eyes. He'd rarely seen Fred this upset before, but then again, it must be quite a bummer to find out you'd be unable to suck faces with your long-term girlfriend in every hallway possible out of nowhere. Instead of participating in the discussion, like quite a few students now did - "Girls only act on emotion, never on logic!" Ernie McMillan yelled, earning himself a scandalised cry from Lavender Brown, followed by a few very rude words - he used the diversion to slither to the front of the crowd, finally able to read the Decree without having to stand on his tip toes. Being so very short never did him any good in larger crowds - meaning groups of five people and more - because he always had to stretch and jump to catch only glimpses of what everybody else was admiring, and even then he only saw half of the attraction at best.

Without someone's shoulder blades getting in the way, though, Seamus was finally able to read all of the Educational Decree:

" **EDUCATIONAL DECREE NO. 31**

BOYS AND GIRLS ARE NOT PERMITTED TO BE WITHIN 8 INCHES OF EACH OTHER"

To Seamus's satisfaction, there was a very important point Dolores Umbridge seemed to have overlooked: he was a boy, and he didn't like girls.

An easy grin slipped onto his face as he thought of all the things he could be doing right now, breaking rules but not, and his mind automatically wandered to the only person he wanted to do those things with.

Ignoring Neville's confused stammering, Seamus turned around, taking off towards the Gryffindor tower, a new kind of energy in his stride that made him skip every third step or so and take the stairs two at a time.

… … …

It didn't take him long to find Dean, who was still sprawled on his bed, studying, just the way he had been when Seamus had left to go sneak some muffins from the kitchen. Upon entering the Gryffindor boys' dorm, Seamus stopped short, leaning against the threshold to take in the sight before him.

Dean hadn't noticed him yet, completely absorbed in the paragraph he was reading, a concentrated frown on his face. He was surrounded by loose papers, notes, books and various Muggle pens - he'd refused to write with ink and quill on his bed ever since their first year, claiming it'd leave ugly stains on his sheets - his face the embodiment of unbroken focus.

What really caught Seamus's attention, though, weren't the study utensils, but Dean himself.

He was barefoot, his legs clad in those shorts he'd been wearing all summer long, pronouncing his long, lean legs. Seamus silently reveled in the amazing things the thin cotton pants did for Dean's ass, congratulating himself on never mentioning this to his friend - Dean would've been out of his shorts quicker than if they had caught on fire, and it would've been highly unlikely for him to ever do as much as even _look_ at them ever again. For some reason, people mentioning his attractiveness usually made the tall Gryffindor boy squirm uncomfortably.

Dean's shirt was unbuttoned halfway up, revealing parts of his smooth chest and riding up his stomach tauntingly, giving Seamus a good view of those beautiful abs Dean normally refused to show. His dark hair was a complete mess, which stood in wild contrast with his deadly serious face, his gaze sharp and intelligent. The only thing neat about him right now was his Gryffindor tie, perfectly knotted around his neck as always.

Seamus suppressed a smile; Dean couldn't stand it when his tie wasn't done perfectly, unlike himself, who never cared much about his appearance in the first place. This was probably the most messy he'd ever seen his friend, and he found himself rather enjoying the sight.

It was warm up here, even with one window open, and Dean parted his lips slightly, wetting them with his tongue. The simple action was enough to make Seamus feel weak all over, causing him to snap out of his trance.

"Hey, Hermione II., you've been up here baking forever," he said, pushing off the door frame and uncrossing his arms. "Time to take a break, don't you think?"

Dean jumped at his voice, almost smacking himself in the face with his book, looking rather startled. Seamus grinned.

"H-Hey, I haven't seen you c-come in! How long have you been standing t-there?" Dean stammered, completely bewildered. His voice was slightly shaky, though from surprise or who he was, Seamus couldn't tell. He, of course, secretly hoped that it had more to do with the latter.

Seamus fixed his gaze on Dean's flushed face, a lazy smirk coming to his own. He knew exactly what he'd had to do next.

"A while," he replied, walking towards the bed with smooth steps, making not a sound on the carpeted floor. His eyes still trained on Dean's, he pulled out the blueberry muffins he'd snagged from the house elves. His friend was still visibly flustered, gaze flicking everywhere, hands pretending to sort out some papers he was really just pushing back and forth mindlessly. "Look, I brought some food."

"O-Oh, cool, thanks," Dean mumbled, his cheeks burning, and looked away. He kept his eyes downcast, thinking it wouldn't be the best of ideas to stare his best friend down like that, who, admittedly, looked rather sexy today. Like, even sexier than usual.

"Umbridge enacted a new Educational Decree," Seamus continued, his voice lazy and deep, setting the muffins down on Dean's bedside table. "It says girls and boys are not permitted to be within eight inches of each other."

"Oh?" Dean said weakly, obviously not getting where Seamus was going with this. To his embarrassment, his voice was still shaking, thanks to his brain bringing up pictures of Seamus's arms, muscular and spattered with freckles and, to his misery, fully visible because of his rolled-up sleeves. Not to mention the dark pants hugging Sea's lower body in a way that made Dean's head spin.

"Fred Weasley wasn't too amused," Seamus said, kicking off his shoes before crawling onto the bed on his hands and knees, "But _we_ couldn't care less, could we?"

"H-How come?" Dean asked, hating himself for the obvious stutter in his words. He felt rather hot. Maybe he was beginning to develop a fever or something.

"It's quite hot up here, isn't it?" Seamus replied, taking the book out of Dean's hands gently and placing it on the nightstand, careful not to knock the muffins off. Then, to Dean's great horror, he crawled into the other boys' lap. "Maybe we should take off some clothes."

"S-Seamus, I think that's closer than eight inches," Dean whispered, using all his willpower to keep thinking rationally, trying to push away the feel of Seamus's body weight against his own. _Think of Snape, Dean. Snape, shirtless. Hagrid on the beach. Umbridge in a bathing suit. Don't think of-_

"Yes, but we're not a girl and a boy, are we?" Seamus whispered back, leaning forward so that his breath was ghosting over Dean's skin, making him shiver. "I know you're gay, Dean. You can't hide that from me. I know you too well."

 _Oh, my God._

"H-How did find out?" Dean stammered, not even trying to deny what he'd known was true for years. Besides, he'd always been a terrible liar. Seamus would see right through him - especially if he had noticed Dean's bodily reaction to their proximity by now.

Panic slowly rose in him, making his body feel cold all of a sudden. Only seconds ago, he had been lazy from the heat, where he was now trembling uncontrollably. _I thought I'd kept it hidden so well._

He'd been so thoroughly convinced that his secret would be safe and snug in the pit of his stomach until his dying day that he had never even dreamed of anyone noticing, let alone addressing him about it. And now it turned out that all of that had been nothing but one big lie. And Seamus, oblivious, faithful Seamus of all people, had found him out?

If Seamus knew, then who else did, too? What was it that had given him away? Was Sea trying to test whether Dean was attracted to him? The thought of how this could turn out made Dean want to throw up.

He didn't think that he could stand losing his best friend.

"The way you keep ogling Malfoy's ass in Care of Magical Creatures everyday made it kinda obvious, you know," Seamus told him, making Dean groan miserably. For the first time in his life, the dark skinned boy wished he'd simply faint.

"Hey, don't worry. Me, too," Seamus continued, cupping Dean's face in his hands. "Dean, look at me." Dean did. "Malfoy might be an asshole, but his ass is great. I'll give him that."

Dean nodded, sweat beginning to form on his brow. He'd only stared at other boys because he'd been trying desperately to find something that could distract him from these absolutely inappropiate thoughts and recurring, even more inappropiate dreams he'd had about his best friend - but there was no need to let Seamus know about that. Most boys weren't too thrilled when they found out that their _male_ best friend had a crush on them.

"But," Seamus went on, his voice a purr in Dean's ear, "And that's the breaking point here, it's not nearly as great as yours."

Dean was stunned silent for a moment, and when he found his voice, he sounded embarrassingly weak. "M-Mine?"

"You're sexy as hell, Dean Thomas," Seamus nodded, one of his hands sliding beneath Dean's collar, making him suppress a gasp, "And just imagine all the things I'd like to do to you."

With that, he bent down, pressing a kiss to the crook of Dean's neck, his lips warm and wet against Dean's skin. Dean's mind was spinning uncontrollably by now, his heart beating so hard it felt like it was about to leap right out of his chest, and his breath had already become unsteady. _And all they had done was kiss._

Seamus's other hand glided over his jawline, traced along his collarbone tentatively and began wandering over his chest, his stomach, going down, down, down. Dean gasped, unable to keep himself from making noises now, his body tensing up as Seamus reached a sensitive spot. The Irish boy smirked at his reaction, his lips moving against Dean's skin in a way that made him feel shaky all over.

And then he couldn't take it anymore.

Before Seamus could do anything else, Dean grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips collided roughly, the kiss a clash of teeth and tongue, and it was messy and sloppy and so, so hot at the same time.

Soon, kissing wasn't enough anymore, either; Dean, who had let all caution fly right out the window, let his hands begin tearing at Sea's clothes, unbuttoning his shirt, trying to get out of his own pants, unzipping Sea's zipper all at once. He just wanted them to come _off_ already.

Seamus, however, didn't seem the least bit repulsed by this. Instead, he helped Dean, pulling his shirt over his head eagerly, hair sticking up wildly afterwards.

Dean eyed Seamus's torso hungrily, then ran his fingers over the smooth, freckle-splattered skin, loving the feel of Seamus on top of him, of their mouths working together, of the fine hairs on the back of Seamus's neck, all of it. He grabbed Sea's arms hard, a moan escaping his mouth as he felt the muscles flex beneath his hands, Seamus's skin dotted with goosebumps.

Seamus chuckled, the noise vibrating pleasantly against the side of Dean's neck, where the Irish boy was busy sucking various marks into his skin. He undid the last few buttons of Dean's shirt, pulling it off, running his hands up and down Dean's shoulders gently before getting to work on his pants.

It didn't take long for them to have nothing between them anymore but their boxers, but it felt like half a eternity to Dean. He couldn't get enough of Seamus, couldn't touch him fast enough, often enough to satisfy this burning, this terribly consuming need inside of him. The temperature in the room seemed to be rising with Dean's anticipation, which had been building up to maximum level. Seamus, who was still positioned in Dean's lap, finally made a move, grinding against him, a motion that made the other boy moan so loudly he ought to be embarrassed. But Dean found himself too busy to blush.

Dean could hear the pergaments crinkling beneath the weight of their bodies, but he couldn't find it in him to care for that, either. Lazily, he pushed most of his notes to the floor, books and pens alongside them, not bothering whether they stayed intact or not. The only thing that mattered to him right now was Seamus's body against his, Seamus's hands on him, Seamus's husky voice whispering his name, _Seamus._

Dean gasped out his name, a breathless, needy sound, as Seamus's hand began touching him through his boxers. His body was going crazy at the touch, making him think that he didn't even want to imagine what'd happen if there was nothing between them anymore.

They were so absorbed in each other that they didn't hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

Dean had been grabbing Sea's ass, the other boy grinding up against him, lips connected in a heated kiss, allowing only the occasional moan or quiet gasp to slip out, when the door flew open, revealing Harry, Neville and Ron.

Seamus and Dean broke apart at once, both of them breathing quite heavily, while their other three roommates stared at them, clearly too shocked to say or do anything. It was hard to tell whose face had gone the darkest shade of red at that point, though Ron and Neville were in a close tie, but it was just as obvious that Seamus, after catching his breath for a few seconds, wasn't all that ashamed.

"Well," he said, his voice slightly uneven, "As you can see, we're quite busy breaking rules, so it'd be grand of you to disappear, shut the door and not come back for, say, the next three hours."

He'd never seen Neville run this fast ever before.


End file.
